


Hurricane to Soothe the Rain

by AnnieMallistic



Series: Weather the Weather [2]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Seth needs looking after and Finn knows how to do it, The Demon returns and shit gets emotional, The three times Seth almost cried and the one time he did, aka the one where Annie needed to make Summerslam better for herself, also aka the one where Annie gets overly emotional about The Demon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 06:16:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16848700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieMallistic/pseuds/AnnieMallistic
Summary: Set during Summerslam 2018 and the Raw afterwards.Carries on fromCloudy Coverwhere Finn was concerned about Dean's lack of enthusiasm returning from injury.Not only does Seth realise that Finn is right, but he has to deal with the general head-fuck that is Summerslam itself, plus he meets The Demon face-to-face since the whole mess of two years ago.In short, Seth really needs a hug. Or something.





	Hurricane to Soothe the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I'm posting a Summerslam fic in December, shut up.

Seth's chest was heaving, sucking in air desperately. Sometimes he even surprised himself. It was no coincidence that he hit paroxysm after the superplex; it paralleled a reverse 1916. He was fairly certain Finn wasn't even watching this match backstage but here he was paying him tribute just the same.

He hadn't planned to. Barclays Centre demanded it of him, like every time he was in this building he had to make amends all over again.

He flicked a glance over to the outside and yet again saw Dean pacing with a loose fist suspended in the air, looking like he was off in his own little world rather than where he should be, right here with Seth.

What seemed like seconds later Drew was hurling Dean into the steel steps and Seth couldn't even stop to check on him because Dolph was flying in his direction. The match was drawing to a close and Seth was drunk on the adrenaline and on the proximity of his win.

Steeling himself, shoulders aching, Seth deadlifted Dolph from the floor and hesitated for a second. Just for a second.

It was the standard turnbuckle spot. He'd done this move a thousand times and he would do it a thousand more. He refused to let Brooklyn psych him out.

It went perfectly. Of course. And then Dean was hitting Dirty Deeds on Drew outside the ring. Even as he watched from the ropes he could feel Dolph approaching behind him and not a second too soon kicked him in the gut to leave him collapsed in the middle of the ring.

This was it. He didn't look to Dean. He didn't need to.

He felt the three count in his throat and Barclays Centre erupted. It hit him like shock, even though it shouldn't, because he was cheered every single week. It was different here. It was always different here.

He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling and soaked it all in. It felt like he laid there for an eternity, lungs filling to the brim with the noise, veins pumping liquid pride.

All of a sudden it was like his mind finally focused again and processed what his eyes were taking in. The ref was holding the Intercontinental out to him, and it was like the last 2 months hadn't happened. It had never stopped being his.

Mouth in an open smile Seth looped his arm through the strap and sat up, looking at the crowd in disbelief. Snapping out of it, he cast his eyes around the ring and despite himself his face fell a little. Dean was still on the outside, still holding up that limp fist like that was as hard as he was going to celebrate. Why the fuck wasn't he in here?

It took an imperceptible frown in Dean's direction for him to think to get in the ring and Seth had to bite back his irritation. 

It had been a long Ambrose-less 9 months. He'd missed being in the ring with him so badly. Could Dean not see that? It was laughable. He had always worn his affection for Dean proudly both on his sleeve and on his face. Seth was sat on the mat, belt in one hand, looking up at his partner in what could only be described as complete and utter reverence even though Dean was looking in the opposite direction. 

When Dean cast a brief look his way Seth held up a hand, prompting Dean to help him to his feet. Immediately he was at the other side of the ring and Seth could only watch. 

His brow stung like a bitch.

The next time Dean passed him in his agitated lap of the ring Seth attempted to pull him into a hug and he had to swallow down the thick feeling in his throat when Dean shrugged his way out of Seth's arms. All he could think was **Finn was right. Finn _is_ right.** All he wanted was to get backstage and tell him that, but this celebration wasn't over yet. Seth still had his part to play.

The crowd was still showering them with praise, and Seth extended an arm, pointing at Ambrose to show Brooklyn who had made this happen. **Me, me, it's fucking _me_.** And dear god, why wouldn't he fucking stand still? Seth didn't like to think of Dean in the same way as the commentary team but in this instance, he truly was like a caged animal, pacing restlessly and longing for freedom.

The next time Dean skirted close Seth managed to catch him under one arm and hold him there. In all the years they'd known each other Dean had never been this skittish with him and it was as confusing as it was heartbreaking.

Through it all, Seth kept the grin plastered on his face. He kept his eyes on Dean the whole time even if he wasn't afforded the same courtesy, applauding but never looking in Seth's direction once.

As it became time to wrap up they both rolled out of the ring and without a second's hesitation Dean was gone, already heading to the back. Seth forced himself to grin again and looked conspiratorially at the crowd - that damned kooky Ambrose!

The cheers were the only thing keeping Seth going as he ascended the ramp by himself. He felt more alone than if no one had been in his corner in the first place.

Obviously, he was nowhere to be found when Seth got to gorilla either. Trying not to look like the kid with abandonment issues Seth did what was required of him; a show of respect between he and Dolph, a brief hug from the chairman, exchanged slow smiles with Hunter. 

Seth was desperate to see Finn, and he hated that he knew he couldn't. On any normal event he would just burst into the locker room and spit vitriol. But Finn was busy, and Seth knew better than to interrupt today.

"Seth, over here please," beckoned a crew member. They were stood by with a camera which could only mean it was time for his post-match interview.

"What, now? Come on man, I need to go get patched up." He touched two fingers to his bleeding brow to demonstrate, but it was to no avail.

"No, that's good. Looks like a hard-fought title match."

Seth sighed. "Don't we need to wait for Dean?"

"No no, he's long gone." Seth wondered what they'd do if he stomped off and got himself 'long gone' too, but duty kept his feet glued. "Just reference him a lot."

Seth's eyelashes stuttered as he blinked but he managed to stave off the full-blown roll of the eyes he wanted to do.

"Okay."

When he was done spouting some mouth-souring bullshit about Dean readying the beers he sat down on a crate, needing to take a breather for just a minute. Of course, at that moment someone ran at him with a phone to record a quick bit for the WWE Instagram, but then he was blessedly left alone for a few minutes.

He stroked a hand over the Intercontinental crest, proud that this win had secured his legacy in yet another way. The list of wrestlers to have completed the triple crown more than once was so small that it was still in single digits. No matter what happened, he had this. No matter what happened, they both had reasons to celebrate tonight. 

The next half hour was spent getting his brow seen to and then a quick photoshoot with his new gear and reclaimed title. As per usual, Finn had laughed at him and called him a dork when Seth informed him of his grand plans for an infinity boot. But Finn had been present at his fitting and despite himself his eyes had darkened when Seth raised his arms and the chest piece rode up to reveal his stomach. The costumer had panicked and asked Seth if he wanted it longer, but he simply smiled and said it was perfect. 

It was at least another hour until Kevin emerged into catering, already showered and changed from the squash that constituted his match. He came and sat on the table Seth was quietly sharing with Elias. "He says he's ready for you."

Embarrassingly, Seth's first emotion was jealousy. "You've been with him?"

"No." Kevin raised a finger to conduct his points as he spoke. "He told the makeup guy to tell me to tell you that he's ready for you."

"So, you haven't seen him?"

Kevin shook his head and stole a grape from Elias' plate, garnering a withering look in the process. "No one has but the boy who was helping him."

"Sounds like you'd better go," said Elias. "Please take this one with you," he added, frowning as Kevin also helped himself to a piece of melon. 

Kevin shook his head and made excuses before Seth had to. He and Kevin knew better than Elias that when Finn said he wanted to see Seth, he meant _only_ Seth. 

Seth had to force himself to walk in a measured manner, and not brush people off as they spoke to him in the hallways. It had been hours since he'd left Finn behind in the tiny room with a 'do not enter' sign stuck on the door. 

Now that he was here he was hesitant. Should he have called first? Messaged? Should he knock?

His hand was a breath away from the door handle when he heard a quiet "Come in" from inside.

It still took a couple of seconds for his fingers to connect, and he immediately closed the door behind him to protect the privacy of Finn's ritual. 

When he spun around the air pressure in Seth's ears dropped out. His head filled with fuzz as he was deafened by tinnitus, heart racing while his lungs struggled to regain equilibrium. 

Finn seemed bigger, so much bigger when all his dips and corners were filled in with paint. Everything was different. Although he moved like water made sentient, when stationary his stance was more rigid, his shoulders more set. His closely shaven chin was solid and square, like a fist would shatter against the steel of his jaw.

From the other side of this small room he almost looked taller too, and Seth knew it was determination yanking from the top of his spine, pulling him skyward. He looked at this...this creature, and found it hard to place a name to him. It was a name he knew so well, a name that felt at home on his lips and never truly left his mouth, burrowing into the spaces between his teeth and clinging to his tongue. It seemed absurd that this was the same man. 

Seth didn't care that it was just a disguise to everyone else in this building. They were wrong. It wasn't a disguise; it was a reveal, it was a layer beneath. Why else would he look at the man who was his port in a storm and feel nothing but fear? 

Why would Seth stand across from him and both recognise him and feel like he was seeing him for the first time? Why would his knees be locked, his feet glued? Why would he feel like the walls were closing in? These walls, these same walls, in this same building where it all went wrong, where the paint couldn't protect him. Couldn't protect him from Seth. 

Why would he watch this night sky and crimson wrapped body advance towards him and instinctively back away? Why would Seth feel the door handle carve into his spine and the flesh cushioning it and yet still try and take another step back?

He froze as a hand came towards him, the painted teeth seeking his face. Even though the fingertips were devoid of colour they stopped a mere breath away, keeping the ice of his skin away from the fire of Seth's.

"It's okay." The voice was the same. The rise and fall of it was like autumnal wind and the comfortable recesses of home. **_Finn._** "It's still me underneath."

Two years. Two years since Seth had stood across from this painted face, skin stripped back to bare the soul underneath. 

Of course, it wasn't the first time Finn had worn his colours since that fateful night, but ironically, it had been Dean that Seth had clung to at both events. 

Summerslam 2017, a year removed from the whole mess. Knowing that Finn would be painted up for the first time since it had happened Seth couldn't face it, and stuck close to his tag partner, opting to send a good luck text from inside the same building instead. When Finn had found him after - "I made it!" - the colours were already fading, rubbed off throughout the course of the match. It was safer then, for streaks of it to sully Seth's skin when they hugged in mutual relief.

TLC was the same. He simply stayed away until Finn made it through the match unscathed, as if Seth's absence would keep him safe. 

Tonight was the first time that he had allowed himself to, well, face his demons. And god, he sort of wished he hadn't. This was different, seeing him battle-ready. 

The guilt was so thick and heady, Seth felt like he was drowning in it. Every time he thought he was over this, every time Finn told him for the thousandth time that he hadn't blamed him for a single second, something would always make him doubt it again. 

The ghost of muscle memory haunted him. He could feel his arms ache from Finn's weight. Seth could feel his fingers unfurling to let him go. And he saw it in his mind's eye, over and over and over. 

Amidst this internal storm, Finn's arm never wavered, pads of his fingers hovering a hair's width from Seth's cheek. He said it again, even softer. "It's okay."

Seth met Finn's eyes for the first time since he'd stepped through the door. "It's never going away, is it? Not really."

"It brought us together," Finn said softly. 

He lowered his hand a little, stretching forth his fingertips like a gift. Seth raised his own and the pads of their digits met, minimal skin contact a blessed relief. 

Finn was right, of course. If Seth had simply brushed the injury off, either by blaming Finn for it or by claiming 'shit happens' they wouldn't be where they were now.

And then it occurred to Seth why he had wanted to find Finn in the first place. "You were right about him. Something's wrong."

Finn nodded, painstakingly slow. His voice had a growl to it when he replied. "I saw."

That stopped Seth a little short. His hand dropped back to his side. "You...you did?"

Finn's black lips twitched into a small smile and Seth saw it again, his Finn. "I can multitask."

Seth didn't say a word to that. Seth wouldn't be able to paint himself up with such artistry and precision if he was giving it full concentration, let alone keeping one eye on a monitor while he did so.

"So, you saw-"

"1916? Yes."

Seth could feel the blush rouging his cheeks. He was such a dork. He didn't need Finn to say it to know he was thinking it.

As his anxiety faded Seth surveyed Finn's face. The paint, black as night, made his eyes sink deep into his face, but they were eyes that Seth recognised, even if the look held in them was one that scared him. 

They'd been together when Finn had received the call asking him to don the demon. Seth had been sure that they wouldn't; Summerslam or not, the demon would be reserved for something more important down the line. That's what Finn deserved after all the shit he'd been through this year already. 

Finn had known otherwise. He'd known it in his bones. 

But in the end, perhaps this was the most important occasion after all. Tonight, Finn was going to show everyone that he wasn't to be overlooked. He was going to squash Corbin and show the world that his size was a strength rather than a weakness. 

Tomorrow didn't matter. It had to not matter, or neither of them would be able to enjoy this moment together. They would enjoy this event as if they were purely fans. Tonight was about Summerslam only, and they would pretend that they had no idea what was coming on Raw tomorrow night.

Even under the paint Seth could see Finn's eyebrows draw together. His hand came forward again and dusted over Seth's brow, adorned with one single steri-strip. 

"Oh," Seth said, shooing Finn's hand away. "Yeah. It's okay, it doesn't hurt."

Finn's eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything. He worried over the tiniest of Seth's scrapes, which was almost funny, considering their history. Seth wasn't about to let him know that the small cut was still throbbing, not when he was about to head out to the ring.

"Your cue must be coming up," Seth said softly. He ducked his head and pressed a kiss to a bare piece of skin on Finn's shoulder, just shy of the teeth decorating his chest. 

Finn held out a silky red piece of fabric and Seth took it after a moment's hesitation. He passed it through his hands, found the string at the top. Finn was still staring at him levelly when he raised both arms. Seth flicked his eyes between Finn and the silk in his hands. When Finn lifted his chin in answer, Seth bent to tie the sarong around his waist. 

When Seth straightened, Finn squared his shoulders. "Wait here."

Finn's voice was thick with authority and Seth couldn't deny that it stirred something low in his stomach. When Finn slipped into this role he became a man of few words, each one chosen with deliberate intent. Seth didn't need further instruction.

He nodded. "Okay."

On a normal night he'd have wished Finn Iuck and walked him to gorilla, watched the match with Kevin probably, but tonight wasn't a normal night. So he did as he was told.

Finn closed the door behind him when he left, and Seth took a deep breath. Finn was gonna be fine. He switched on the monitor and waited patiently. 

A short while later Seth couldn't quite help the snarl that came over his face as Baron Corbin descended the ramp towards the ring. He was almost certain that he was more sick of Corbin than Finn was. But then it wasn't exactly a secret who had the most patience in this relationship.

Corbin's music played for a long time, so they must have been running commercials for home viewers. Seth picked at the skin of his cuticles, bouncing one knee up and down. He was nervous, but he knew that Finn didn't have a shred of self-doubt tonight. 

Finally, the music ended, and the lights went out. Seth got butterflies and edged forward on his seat. Even sitting here anticipating it, the way the red lights pulsed almost gave him a heart attack. He could feel the crowd's anticipation, their hope. _Is it? Could it be?_ It wasn't just on the screen, he could feel it through the walls. The air in the whole arena, even back here through the maze of corridors, was thick with excitement.

Finn's music exploded. The second they caught a glimpse of the lithe body crawling through the smoke the crowd erupted.

Seth watched the screen, entirely rapt. Unbeknownst to Seth his eyes had filled with tears as he watched how the crowd was captivated, how Corbin was quaking in his stupid fucking vest. Usually Seth was the only one to see this part of Finn, this dark secret love of his, but tonight the world got to see him, in all his enchanted splendour.

Finn stripped off the cover of his silk, and slowly crept to the ring, moving through the smoke like he was made from it. Finn's tongue repeatedly snaked out in mimicry of the gaping mouth drawn on his chest, and Seth wasn't sure if it was an attempt to taste Corbin's fear or to further display his aggression, but either way it somehow just seemed to...fit. 

When the lights let up, when the music fell away, Finn straightened. And Seth almost hoped Corbin knew of the war that was coming for him. Almost.

It was quick, and it was brutal. It made both no sense at all, and all the sense in the world that Finn's move set would appear so much more vicious when he dressed as the demon. Seth knew from first-hand experience that it wasn't just fallacy, having fought Finn in both forms. There was something so freeing for Finn in this persona that his offense was dealt with just a little less control and a little more force. Never unsafe, just a savage fluidity that he held at bay the rest of the time.

Corbin didn't get in one offensive move, and in the blink of a demonic eye, it was over. Finn's music filled the building from wall to wall and the crowd rejoiced, ecstatic to see him stand victorious as he deserved. 

Seth didn't take his eyes off the screen until Finn had disappeared behind the curtain, at which point he stood up and faced the door, chest heaving. He waited.

What could only be 30 seconds later - and it should have taken at least two uninterrupted minutes to get here from gorilla - Finn burst into the room. He didn't stop to close the door. In fact, he didn't stop at all until Seth was pressed against the opposite wall as Finn furiously kissed him. 

Finn had barrelled through him as if he didn't weigh a thing, causing Seth to painfully hip check the table as he stumbled backwards, knocking half of Finn's paints and makeup to the floor. But he barely even noticed the throbbing in his hip as Finn's jaw worked overtime, tilting his head the other way every few seconds to lick as deep into Seth's mouth as he possibly could. 

Seth didn't even realise his hands were scraping all over Finn's torso until he found his wrists pinned to the wall and the shock caused him to turn and look at them breathlessly. He literally caught himself red-handed, palms covered in paint from the tongue that ran down Finn's chest. He didn't even want to know what a mess his face was. He licked his lips and could feel the tacky stick of the paint. 

He looked back at Finn, who was breathing heavily over Seth's chin. Seth's mouth opened and closed several times as he gasped to get his breath back, but he wasn't at all sure what he wanted to say.

"I. God, I-"

"Ssh," Finn soothed, releasing Seth's wrists from the wall only to wrap them around the small of his own back. He reached up and enveloped Seth in a hug. Still breathing audibly Seth buried his face in Finn's neck. He was covered in paint anyway, why not add some to his forehead too? 

They stood there like that for a couple minutes, until their lungs had calmed and their heads had cleared. It was only at that point that Seth remembered the door was open, but he decided he no longer cared.

Finn slowly let him go and brought his hands up to cup Seth's face - "come on" - before trailing one down to lace their fingers. Finn scooped up a bag hanging on the back of a chair and gently led Seth out of the room, no regard as to whether there was anyone else in the corridor or not.

They only went a couple of doors down and Finn locked the door of the private shower room behind them. From his bag he took out all the essentials: a towel, gel, shampoo, a wash cloth and a clean set of clothes. It made a laugh bubble into Seth's throat, to see Finn wearing the demon's skin whilst doing something so mundane, though he managed to hold it back behind a strained smile.

To distract himself, Seth turned on the shower, setting it just a little warmer than he would choose if he was alone. As he stripped off he became aware that Finn was merely observing rather than getting ready himself. Well. Seth could fix that.

He set his clothes aside in a pile and stepped towards Finn. He slowly stripped the ribboned armbands from Finn's biceps and then started on peeling the red tape crisscrossed around his forearms. Seth methodically worked his way through the minimal clothing and adornments, slipping each leg tenderly from his boots and finally removing the shorts hidden beneath Finn's trunks.

Without prompting, Finn stepped in. Seth was all set to help him wash but Finn's fingertips found Seth's face first, massaging gently over his mouth and rubbing through his beard. When the water ran murky Seth decided he wished he'd seen his face after all; marred by Finn's colours, claimed by them. 

Seth knew his face was clear when the slightest smile twitched onto Finn's face. And then he stood back and fully submitted himself, limbs loose and chin tilted. Finn was coming back to him. The rigidity of the demon's stance was finally ebbing. 

Seth couldn't help himself and leant in to claim a quick kiss, rubbing a hand over his face afterwards in case he'd messed himself up again. 

And then he began. Unlike the paint that had transferred onto Seth's skin in a smudge, the thick layers of it on Finn were going to take more work than a bit of water. Seth must have used half the bottle of shower gel on both Finn's torso and limbs.

When Finn stood before him, milky flesh untarnished, he wet the washcloth to get to work removing the black-grey-pinkish smudge that Finn's face had become. He didn't stop until every scrap of it was gone; every fleck on his earlobes, every stray streak in his hairline. When he lowered his hand Finn's expression was still and serene. 

As strange as it was for Seth to share a shower with Finn and not touch his dick once, sex really wasn't on Seth's mind right now. It didn't seem to be on Finn's either, as he ran one hand through Seth's wet hair and pushed it back off his forehead, searching for something in his eyes that Seth didn't know how to give. For the second time that evening Seth's vision went glassy from tears and Finn pulled Seth tight against him.

"Just a little longer."

Seth nodded furiously, fingers digging into Finn's shoulder blades just a little too hard.

The next half hour passed quietly as they each finished their respective showers, dried, dressed and packed up their things. Wordlessly they wheeled their suitcases out into the hallway.

On their way out of the building Seth found himself slowing to a stop at a vacant monitor. Several of their colleagues were huddled round another one at the end of the hall, but he had no desire to join them. 

The main event was near to closing. Finn came back to stand at his side, answering in a short nod when Seth looked at him, wordlessly asking permission. 

Brock was laying into Braun with a chair on the outside to keep him from interfering and cashing in, so the end was close. Seth didn't even realise just how close, because when Lesnar got back in the ring he walked straight into a spear out of nowhere and that was it. Lesnar's reign of absence was finally over, and Roman's quest was done. 

Watching Roman take the belt in disbelief and hearing their friends down the hall whooping and cheering brought a small smile to Seth's face. 

Sometimes you just know when people are going places. Seth had known it when he shook Roman's hand for the first time back in FCW. Sometimes you knew who _deserved_ to make it, even if you weren't sure they ever would. That's how Seth had felt about Dean back in those days, unsure if he would ever transition enough into this company's style to be given the chance. But Roman? Everything about him had screamed top of the mountain, even whilst he was greener than grass, and it had nothing to do with his family name. 

To see him now standing at the top of said mountain? Seth didn't refer to The Shield as brethren outside of the ring all that often, but damn if he didn't feel like the proudest little brother on earth. 

When he flicked a look to Finn, Seth was surprised to see the smallest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was almost over for Finn; the torturous wait for a rematch. And though they knew how it was going to end - for both of them - it had set him free. After tomorrow, the belt would become just that: a belt, without a hint of ownership tainting his view. 

Lightly, he touched Seth's wrist. "Do you want to stay?"

Seth gazed back at the screen. Roman was on the turnbuckle, lifting the Universal high above his head. Soon he would head backstage, and Seth knew who was going to be there to greet him first, with untamable pride and excitement. And he just didn't think he could watch it, knowing that he'd won a championship himself mere hours ago - a championship with more gravitas and prestige, at that - and hadn't received a shred of the same treatment.

"No."

Finn nodded. He cupped the back of Seth's head and pressed their cheeks together for a second, and then they were both moving, rolling themselves and their suitcases to the parking lot without so much as a goodbye to anyone.

Seth drove 90% of the time, but when Finn held out his hand and flexed his fingers he gave up the keys willingly, suddenly exhausted.

It wasn't a long drive. After all, they were performing again in this same building the next night. Seth fell asleep with his face pressed against the window just the same. 

He was seemingly out for the count, because when Finn gently shook him awake he'd already been into the building twice with both sets of luggage. Seth laughed at himself a little, scraped both hands over his face and then they made their way inside. Finn took his hand for the duration of the elevator ride and something warm stirred in Seth's chest at the simple comfort of it.

When the door was safely locked behind them Seth sank onto the bed and put his head in his hands. He could hear Finn moving around the room. Kicking off his sneakers, drawing the curtains closed, switching on a lamp. And then Seth moved his hands away and Finn was right there, crouched in front of him. His feet were planted, legs apart. The demon's muscle memory. 

Seth closed his eyes and leant into Finn's palm when it stroked his cheek. "Talk to me," Finn whispered. 

Seth took another second or two for himself, breathing deeply and cherishing Finn's concerned touch before he forced a smile onto his face. Finn took the hint and straddled his lap when Seth tugged at his waist. Immediately Finn's hands found his face again.

"No," Seth smiled. "Tonight is all about you. You're incredible. Do you know how proud am?" His hands slipped beneath Finn's shirt and ran up his back, seeking comfort from his body rather than ask for kindness. "And do you know how hard it was for me to concentrate on the match while you were doing that tongue thing? You could have probably hit the people's elbow and I wouldn't have realised."

"Stop it." Finn's expression hadn't changed at all and it made Seth's suggestive one fall away. His tone was serious without being stern. "Stop being strong."

Finn abruptly got up and Seth's arms hovered in the air at his sudden absence. He blinked. "I'm- I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising."

Seth turned and stared as Finn climbed onto the bed, laying on his side and looking at him expectantly. Seth shuffled backwards and mirrored him, a little afraid to speak lest he be admonished again.

"Why won't you admit out loud that he's hurting you?" Finn laid a hand on Seth's hip. "I know you feel it on the inside."

Seth couldn't even force his lips apart and simply shook his head. He didn't know. He didn't know why. This was a safe space with the person he trusted the most in the world, but he still couldn't bring himself to admit it. And it was especially ridiculous because Finn already knew. In fact, he'd seen it first. 

"Okay..." Finn drew the word out while he thought. "If you can't talk about it, then listen."

Seth swore he could almost feel his pupils dilate. He nodded dumbly and worried the front of Finn's t-shirt between his fingertips. 

Finn carefully ran one hand from Seth's crown down to cup his jaw. "I don't know what's wrong with him. I wish I could tell you. I don't know if he's mad that he's immediately been thrown back into a storyline that has more to do with you and Roman than with himself. I don't know if this is a brand of ring rust. Maybe he's just nervous being out in front of a crowd for the first time in 9 months." He tipped Seth's chin up with one finger. "But I do know that whatever it is, he shouldn't be taking it out on you."

Seth tried to look away, cheeks a little pink, but Finn gripped his chin and didn't allow him to move. When did Seth get this needy?

"Since when do I give a shit about stuff like this?" Seth asked, mostly rhetorically.

Finn smiled sadly. "Since it was Ambrose."

Seth felt himself flush even harder. Sometimes he wondered - but was always afraid to ask - what Finn thought of his feelings for Ambrose. What he suspected. If Seth ever grew the balls to directly address the subject he would assure him it wasn't like _that_. It had never been like that.

"It's Dean," Finn said gently. "Dean, who is more important and integral to your very sense of self than you would ever admit out loud."

Well. That hit the nail on the head. Maybe Seth didn't need to broach the issue after all. It seemed that Finn knew more than he ever let on. Typical Finn, really.

"'Wrestling soulmate' is the only think I could think of." Seth forced it out to address their conversation from Monday. "But it isn't right."

Finn nodded in complete understanding. "That's why it hurts so much. And why it makes me so damn angry." Finn's grip had tightened ever so slightly but he let go as soon as he realised. Seth caught his hand as he pulled it away. "You internalised this brotherhood, and no matter what they make you do in terms of storyline, you'll always be more loyal to it than either of them. There's a reason your personal life imploded after you broke The Shield onscreen, and it's because you felt it like it was real."

And in a strange way it _was_ real. The animosity and betrayal might have been fabricated, but the finer facets of their life as a group had truly been broken. He couldn't ride with them anymore, while they could stay together. He couldn't drag them to Crossfit anymore, while they could train together. And in that time without him, their bond continued to flourish, spreading and growing into the space that Seth had left behind. There was no room for him now, which is why even on the cusp of their group reuniting, he would never ride with them again. 

They were still friends. Of course, they were friends. But people in friendship groups click in different ways, and in varying levels of intensity. They were better friends with each other than they were with him; that was the crux of it. Seth knew it wasn't intentional. But even though he would never begrudge them of it, being the third wheel in a three-man group still hurt like fuck. 

"He should have been there for you tonight. No matter what he's going through in his own head, you won a title tonight and he should have been there. Like, really there, supporting you. Because you know damn well he's with Roman right now, celebrating _that_ title and _that_ brother." He kissed the nail of Seth's thumb. "I should have had to fight for your attention tonight. It should have been all Shield, all together, celebrating. Reunited, the night before you're truly reunited. And maybe it's not all on Dean. Maybe it's on the two of you for pandering to him too much, I don't know."

Finn's other hand snaked its way to Seth's head. He pulled the band securing Seth's bun onto his own wrist, let his fingers slither into the released mane. 

"What I'm trying to tell you, in this very long-winded Finn Bálor kind of manner, is that you don't have to pretend like you're not hurting. Even if you think it's dumb."

Seth felt Finn's fingers tighten and tug at his roots. "You don't have to be strong for me," Finn murmured, voice sultry sweet. He came closer, mouth lax and tantalisingly close to Seth's lips. "Don't be strong for me." 

When Seth leant in, baited for the kiss, Finn's fist in his hair kept him out of reach. When Seth tried again the grip tightened. "Be weak for me."

Seth's breath was already heavy, his dick was already hard, and he had to stop for a second to process what Finn was saying. He shifted his gaze from Finn's beautiful fucking mouth and met his eyes. Eyes that were perhaps a shade bluer than they usually were. And it clicked.

The second Seth stopped pushing forward and let his head fall back against the palm in his hair Finn surged forward and took what he wanted from Seth's mouth. Which was apparently everything. 

There was no building of pace, as Finn was raring from the get go. Seth's jaw was already aching sweetly from how much Finn's mouth was moving against his own, and he found his head tipped right back to the base of his neck with how Finn was yanking his hair for better access.

He was kissing back in an attempt to match Finn's fury, but he couldn't quite hit the same rhythm. When a couple strands of hair pulled in a way that wasn't fun anymore Seth whimpered, causing Finn to immediately let go and pull back.

For a hot second Seth regretted everything and wished he'd just ignored the shooting pain in his scalp, but then Finn started savagely pawing at Seth's clothes and he decided yeah, this was more than okay as a substitute. 

Seth accommodated as much as he could, lifting limbs where Finn was tugging. Seth felt like he was perpetually behind, like he could never catch up. Whatever he decided to do, Finn was already there. Before he could even sit up Finn had shoved Seth back down by the chest and wriggled out of his own clothes in the blink of an eye. 

The sudden onslaught of skin stopped Seth in his tracks like a slap in the face but even then, Finn was already onto the next move. Seth’s eyes rolled into the back of his head when Finn’s warm mouth enveloped him, starfishing simply because he wasn’t sure he could move. 

He hit the back of Finn’s throat a couple times and moaned wantonly, already limbless and without inhibition, which – he was beginning to understand – was exactly what Finn had been shooting for. 

Finn had settled into a wonderful rhythm, drawing Seth closer to his climax only to back off sweetly, cupping his balls and tickling his fingertips across Seth’s thighs. Seth thought maybe he was okay to stay like this forever, dangling over a precipice with the knowledge that Finn would always tug him back. 

Eventually Seth’s wet dick hit the air again, and he was wearing the laziest goofiest smile when Finn climbed his way back up his body. Finn grinned wickedly and fixed himself back against Seth’s lips, sharing the taste and the joy of it. 

They kissed like that for a while, lazier, at a pace that Seth could match, until he decided it was time to reciprocate. With an arm around one of Finn’s hips, he lifted a thigh and attempted to switch their positions. Attempt being the operative word, because Finn planted himself like deadweight. 

When Seth looked up in question Finn stroked a hand over a cheek, and plainly said “no.”

He lithely pressed his entire body down on Seth’s, and just to drive the point home a little further, bumped his dick against Seth’s ass, causing an immediate flush across his chest.

“O- oh. Are you-?”

Finn’s answer was to spread Seth’s legs even further apart. One hand began to slowly – almost reassuringly – stroke Seth’s dick, while his other hand softly ghosted over his entrance. He flicked his eyes up, waiting for consent. 

Seth was embarrassed to find that he was welling up for the third time this evening, and the second Finn realised it his hands darted away, only for Seth to shake his head and grab Finn’s wrists, drawing him back to where they’d been. 

“No, please. _Please_.” He tilted his chin upwards, sighing when Finn granted him with a kiss. “Just- “

“I’ll be so gentle,” Finn whispered. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Seth had been planning to make a joke about how it had ‘been awhile’ since he’d been on the receiving end, but he realised he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to remind Finn that he was nervous, because he already knew. 

With a sigh Seth kissed him again, before settling back and allowing Finn to love him the way only Finn could. The way no one ever had.

Time fell away, and Seth allowed himself to be led from dizzying sensation to the sweetest torture. Of course, Finn made sure Seth’s orgasm took precedent, but he didn’t allow either of them to come until Seth’s tears had finally spilled, drawn from him with the softest, most gentle touches. He kissed the tears away on the come-down, and only when Seth was smiling, was whining, was begging for it, did Finn fuck him into oblivion, crying out as his own climax hit him like a truck. 

They both fell immediately into the deepest slumber either had enjoyed for quite some time. When they woke in the morning, tangled together and sticky atop the sheets, they laughed until Seth threatened to cry an entirely different set of tears. 

x

 

When Seth walked through the curtain, Dean and Roman by his side, he was expecting Finn to be gone. He was expecting to find his stuff gone from the locker room, to have to search the arena for him before he could shower up and leave. But there he was, smiling a genuine smile. 

Turns out, he wasn’t even waiting for Seth. He opened his arms immediately towards Roman, who walked into them with the happiest smile, one hand around Finn’s shoulders, the other by his side holding the Universal title. 

“Thank you.” 

It was so quiet, spoken into Roman’s shoulder, but Seth heard it, even amongst the bustle of gorilla post-show. As he was back-handed in the chest, it seemed Dean had heard it too. 

Seth looked to his friend, clad in the tactical gear he so openly hated, and even though this evening marked only a full week since he had returned, Dean looked… tired. 

And in that moment, everything seemed to slot into place. Seth realised that Dean wasn’t obligated to be happy. As grateful as Seth knew he was to be back at work and back in the ring, it suddenly became clear that this didn’t mean that Dean had to put up and shut up. He could be both happy to be back, and disappointed in what his character was doing. 

Was Seth happy with his own direction right now? Was Finn? Was Dean? Fuck, was anybody? 

“We’ve just gotta get through it.” Seth didn’t even realise he was saying it before the words were halfway out of his mouth. “We’ve just gotta make the best of it.”

It took a moment, but a small smile spread across Dean’s face. He took one of Seth’s hands and slapped him on the back. It wasn’t the all-encompassing hug that Finn gave Roman, but it was enough. 

“We will, brother.”

They exchanged a smile, before Dean stepped to Roman – “come on, big guy, let’s hit the road” – and Finn playfully nudged Seth with his shoulder. 

“It looks good on him, huh?” Seth turned back just as the two were about to leave gorilla and saw where Finn was gesturing; the title in Roman’s hand. “The two of you need to make sure he keeps it.”

Finn’s eyes were full of resolution, of acceptance. It was an acknowledgement that he wasn’t holding a grudge that his Universal title rematch – the one thing he’d been waiting on for two entire years – had been used as a catalyst for The Shield’s reunion. It was all Seth needed to know that Finn was okay, and that they just needed to get through it. They just needed to make the best of it. 

“Now come on, big guy,” Finn laughed, eyebrows jumping. “Let’s hit the road.”

**Author's Note:**

> Really hope I did okay with my descriptions of The Demon, y'all. That match got me so emotional, and so did attempting to convey said emotions in this fic.  
> Give me feedback, I'm needy.


End file.
